


Of Lions and Mages

by Fidemdormiens



Series: Lyrium and the Lost [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullenlingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Relationship(s), Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2017-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-02 06:55:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fidemdormiens/pseuds/Fidemdormiens
Summary: Continuation of "Dreams in the Dark" with the same characters. You can easily start here though.Cullen and the Inquisitor have established a shaky relationship. His troubled past and the trials of lyrium withdrawal aren't exactly making things easy for them. Will he be able to shake off the chains of the Order and allow himself to find happiness?Some angst, some fluff and some smut; what more could you want?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't get enough of Cullen and Quizzy. This chapter is seriously lacking in angst but I wanted to write something a little warmer and softer. No doubt there will be much angst (and obviously more smut) to follow.

"Inquisitor?" 

Familiar footsteps echo off the marble floor behind her. She turns to smile at Cullen, who looks every inch her Commander in his uniform, glowing a deep red in the fading light. 

"Is everything okay?" 

There is a gentle concern in his voice as he moves behind her, looking out at the grounds over her shoulder. The sun is setting brilliantly to the west casting his face into sharp relief. 

"I'm fine, just glad tonight is over."

Strong arms wrap around her and he rests his cheek against her neck. 

"I couldn't agree more. I don't think I'm cut out for the Game. But I suppose everything ended as well as we could have hoped. All things considered."

She reaches up to brush her fingers through his hair, it's beginning to escape the thick paste that he uses to keep it in place. Encouraging it, she ruffles the curls - they make him look softer, younger. 

"I had hoped to go at least one evening without having to worry about demons. Apparently though, that was too much to ask."

He laughs, breath tickling against her skin, "Wouldn't want things to get boring now, would you?" 

"Boredom might be a refreshing change."

"You dealt with Florianne admirably, it could have turned ugly."

"I just wish I'd managed to reconcile Briala and Celene. I think Briala could have done a lot of good..."

Cullen straightens behind her, pulling her tighter against his chest. 

"There is only so much you could have done Rin. You stopped a lot of bloodshed and helped keep Orlais from slipping into chaos."

"I forget sometimes just how poorly elves are treated though. How inferior we are in their eyes. I worry that I've failed my people. They don't have the privilege of having the Inquisition behind them. Not that even that was enough for some tonight." 

She thought of the stares and the snide whispers that had plagued her all evening, harsh eyes crawling over her tattooed skin and pointed ears. 

"I understand. And I'm sorry. Sorry that people can't see past their prejudice, see who you are."

There's an edge to his voice, reflecting the anger that simmers through her. It's hard to remember that there are evils closer to home than Corypheus. When faced with danger like that, it overwhelms everything else. 

"Maybe after all this is over…"

"You're making sure there's a world left to save. Don't ask too much of yourself."

She nods absentmindedly, it never feels like she's doing enough. There are always more people in need of her help. The reach of the Inquisition is growing but it can still barely keep up with what is asked of it. 

"Rin..."  
"You're right, I know. Thank you..." Her hand finds his and she leans back into him. "It just doesn't always seem that way." 

They stand like that for a while, looking out over the gardens. The flowers reflect the deep light, looking as if they are on fire. It is beautiful, Rin must admit, no evidence left of the violence that had marred the night. A stark contrast to the machinations that were no doubt already resuming in the rooms below them. 

Music begins to trickle up from the ballroom once again, clearly the nobles weren't going to let an assassination attempt ruin their evening. The notes carry to them on the evening breeze and she can't help but relive her dance with Florianne. It had been such a brazen display of power, in front of the whole court, and she had been on edge throughout. So worried to misstep, to accidentally show some sign of weakness, it had made her feel very much out of her depth. Of course, Florianne had turned out to be an even greater threat than she’d anticipated; she always did seem to end up playing with fire. Cullen's voice cuts through her reverie as the song ends. 

"Amongst all the excitement there was one thing I didn't get to do."

"Hmm?" She turns her head to look up at him. 

"Would you give me the honour of a dance, my love?"  
He unwraps his arms from her, stepping backwards and extending a hand with an overly dramatic flourish. She laughs, reaching for it. 

"I thought you didn't dance?"

"For you I shall try my best. But mind your toes."  
His eyes crinkle as he pulls her close, his hand other hand settling on her waist. She rests hers on his shoulder and they begin to move, awkwardly at first. True to his word, Cullen nearly steps on her a few times and she has to snatch her feet clear. Apologising profusely and blushing red, he sets his jaw in determination, as if dancing is simply another enemy to overcome. Slowly they manage to find a rhythm, revolving around the balcony, the steps coming easily. 

"You look beautiful tonight," he smiles down at her and she melts at the warmth in his expression.

"Thank you," she murmurs, returning the smile then resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm so glad to have you here tonight."

The sky begins to darken around them and there is a break in the distant music. It no longer matters, instead they dance to the ebb and flow of their breath and the steady bead of their hearts. She is surprised by how elegantly they move; dancing has never felt this natural for her. She barely needs to think about it, she fits so perfectly against him and he seems to anticipate her every step so that they glide together as one. 

Surprising her, Cullen drops both hands to her waist and she gasps as he lifts her off the ground. Locking his arms, he holds her high above him and begins to spin. Her dress billows out around her, the light fabric catching in the breeze. She braces herself against his shoulders, throwing her head back and giggling. It's been a long time since she felt this free. The stars above her flash across her vision, blurring into lines of bright light against the velvet sky. He keeps her up until they're both dizzy and laughing and in a tangle of arms her feet touch the ground again. She kisses him, smiling against his lips. They fall backwards against the high stone railing as he responds to her eager mouth. There's a lingering sweetness on his tongue when it brushes against hers – honey, she thinks. Resting a hand on his cheek she feels the familiar, faint roughness of stubble under her palm. 

"You sell yourself short, ser."

"I am glad the lady approves," he laughs and places a hand on the small of her back, pulling her into him. She slots against him and feels a tell-tale pressure against her stomach. Teasingly she drops a hand between his legs, brushing over him. He's half hard under her fingers, the bulge in his breeches obvious. 

"Enjoying the attention of the Orlesian ladies, were we?"

Rin smirks at the flush spreading up his neck.  
"No! It's, ah- You, well... Sorry."

"Don't be," she says, deliberately grinding her hips against him. A moan escapes him before he can stop it, sending an answering thrum through her. 

Slowly she trails her other hand down his chest to his breeches. Then, looking straight into his amber eyes, she begins to undo the laces.

"Rin!" He hisses, eyes going wide, "what are you doing?" 

She just winks at him and very deliberately lowers herself to her knees. His mouth drops open with want as she pulls the fastenings open and kisses down the thatch of curls. 

"No one is going to notice us out here, they're all much too busy scheming." She says, their exposed location causing a shiver to run down her spine. 

All he can do is grunt in response as she tugs his breeches down and lets his erection spring free. With a light grip, she wraps her hand around his base and strokes along his length. In a few twists of her wrist he is completely hard and twitching against her, trying not to thrust into her hand. Meeting his gaze again, she dips her head and draws her tongue along the underside of his cock, trailing it up and along his slit. 

"Oh, Maker." 

He's breathing hard, knuckles white as he grips the stone, lust darkening his expression. She loves seeing him like this, making him come undone. With one hand still working his shaft she takes the end of him into her mouth, swirling her tongue across his tip. He growls above her, hand fisting into her hair, eyes screwed shut. Bobbing down she takes half of him, sucking in her cheeks then sliding back up to take a breath. The hand on her head urges her down again, needily. He gives her plenty of room to pull away but she lets him guide her. Taking as much of his cock as she can, she begins to work earnestly and his hips thrust involuntarily into her. She cups his balls in her hand, stroking, squeezing gently, bringing him closer to the edge. Little pants and groans slip between his clenched teeth causing the warmth between her thighs to intensify. His cock brushes past the back of her mouth and she swallows, working her throat around him.

"Close-" he gasps brokenly, hand dropping from her hair. 

She doesn't pull away though, just moves faster, taking as much of him as she can with each dip of her head. His control starts to break and he thrusts erratically into her mouth, pushing himself deeper. She continues to play over his balls, her other hand joining before a wandering finger slides backward over his taint. It slips between his clenched cheeks to find that pucker of skin. His hips stutter forward as she trails around it. He takes one more slow slide of her lips down his length before his body tenses under her. Crying out her name, he comes, back arching, and she swallows down his seed. As he slips out of her mouth she runs her tongue over him, licking him clean until his overly sensitive cock twitches away from her. 

Hooking an arm around her, he pulls her back to her feet and into him. She kisses him and he moans at the salty taste of himself on her swollen lips. 

"Demon," he breathes against her ear and she shivers as his hot tongue swipes under her jaw. 

"Cullen..." The throb between her thighs deepens and she clutches at him. A hand works its way between them to slide over her cunt, through the fabric of her dress. She bucks into the friction, desperate for more. His fingers have just begun to move faster when suddenly a loud giggle from the garden below interrupts them. Cullen swears and pushes her towards the shadow of the building as he frantically drags his breeches up his thighs. More voices join the first and Rin laughs, giddy at their possible discovery. 

"Oops," she says helplessly. 

Cullen looks at her, mortified, and then a grin breaks out across his face as he realises the ridiculousness of it all.

"Demon." He says again, shaking his head and crossing the distance between them to kiss her. She mewls against him, pressing herself into his thigh. "Shall we take this somewhere where we're a little less likely to cause a scandal?" 

"Yes. Please." She manages. 

He adjusts his grip on her and she yelps as he pulls her off the ground, swiftly throwing her over his shoulder. She's wrapped around his neck, one arm held in his. 

"Cullen!"

"Yes, my lady?" She can hear the smirk in his voice as he begins to carry her back into the palace. 

"What if someone sees?"

"You didn't seem too concerned about that earlier."

"Demon," she echoes him, pounding her fist playfully on his back. 

The halls are mercifully quiet and they make it to the chambers offered to her by Celene without any incident. Cullen carries her easily, although the angle causes her cunt to grind against his shoulder at almost every step. It's almost more than she can take against her overly sensitive clit. She's sure he knows exactly what he's doing because every time she tries to adjust her position he holds her tighter, laughing. Letting herself get lost in the warm smell of him under her, and the building throb between her legs, she almost doesn't notice when he stops suddenly. Confused she raises her head to see why. Ah. There's a palace guard standing in front of her door. So much for secrecy. 

"This could be rather hard to explain," Cullen mutters quietly. The guard hasn't turned yet and she can feel him tensing under her, wondering how quickly they can disappear back around the corner. 

"Wait," she says, noticing a small flash of red on the underside of the man's collar. "He's one of Leliana's." 

Cullen breathes out a sigh of relief and she's glad Leliana had given them an easy way to identify her agents. Although she'd had the feeling it had been intended so that they could sort through corpses, should the worst happen. Cullen shifts her into a more secure position and she has to stifle a moan against his neck as the hard ridge of his shoulder drags over her cunt. This serves to quicken his pace and he steps smartly down the corridor. The guard turns to them and she can see the surprise in his eyes but, true to his training, he only nods at them and opens the door. Cullen needs to duck slightly to make sure they both fit through the archway, and when the guard coughs she's almost certain he's stifling a laugh. Leliana was going to enjoy his report way too much, Rin thinks. Cullen gives the man a warning over his shoulder,

"The Inquisitor is not to be disturbed tonight." 

Then the heavy door thuds closed behind them. He barely has a chance to set her down on her feet before she grabs him, pulling him backwards until she slams into the wall. Twining her arms around his neck, her lips meeting his in an urgent kiss. Her tongue coaxes his mouth open and she presses deeper. He slants his head, drinking down her hot breath and the soft moans that slip from her. She rubs herself against his thigh, insistent, the want burning through her. 

"Please..." she begs and he grabs her by the waist, spinning her so she faces the wall. She tries to grind back against him but he steps away and she groans at the loss. Then his hands are buried in her skirts, ruching them up over her back, pushing her forward until she's braced against the wall on her forearms. The cool air against the heat of her cunt makes her gasp. His fingers brush over her slit and she shudders, pressing into them. He slides them between her folds, feeling her slickness, teasing at her clit.

"Cullen…" she moans, squirming under him.  
There's a rustle behind her and his fingers slip away. Her knees almost go as they're replaced by the heat of his mouth. His tongue slides over her, into her, the heavy drag pulling her deeper and deeper. It's all she can do to keep herself upright, focusing on the stone under her hands. He presses a hand on her back, bending her further forward, fingers spreading her open wider. The change in angle makes everything suddenly much more intense. Then he slides two fingers into her, tongue never stopping, and she clenches hard around them. It only takes a few thrusts before she’s at the edge, the stretch mixing with the bursts of pleasure his tongue draws out. He adds a third finger, enough to push her over and she cries out, shattering against him. Holding her up when her legs threaten to give out, he plants soft kisses across her flank. 

Slowly she comes back to herself she and turns to face him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing kisses into his neck. The edges have rubbed off both of them now and she just wants to be close to him. 

"I'll never get used to this," he murmurs into her hair. 

"Hmm?" 

"You. I'll never get used to you. You're just so... Perfect."

Her heart jumps in her chest and she reaches out to brush fingers across his lips. There's so much that she wants to tell him but she can't find the words. 

"I love you Cullen." 

It's not enough but the smile that lights his face, crinkling his eyes, tells her that he understands. He runs his hands up her sides and then down her back, palms flat, soothing. She leans close against his chest, feeling the rise and fall under her cheek. Reaching for the buttons at the back of her dress he manages to loosen the first few but his sure fingers fumble at those further down that he can't see. Turning, she bends her neck forward to give him better access. He brushes a few loose strands of hair off of her neck and then brushes his lips over the knobs of her spine. Achingly slowly, he works down her back, easing buttons open and parting the fabric. Every inch of newly bared skin is treasured, touched by fingers and lips. She sighs back into his hands. Maker, he makes her feel so wanted. He reaches the last button, nestled in the small of her back. One more soft, open mouthed kiss lands there before his knuckles are trailing back up her spine. Hands sliding out over her shoulder blades, gently tugging fabric with them. The sleeves slide down her arms and he guides the dress over her hips. She steps out of the puddle of fabric and he scoops it up, laying it over a chair at the side of the room. The simple gesture makes her throat tighten and he turns back as she sucks in a deep breath. 

"Rin?" He asks, eyes running over her nude form, concerned for a moment. "Wait," he stops, looking at her again, confused. "Your smalls?" 

She laughs, gesturing to the hastily discarded pile of clothing in the corner. 

"I didn't have any spares. Not that Josephine would have actually given me time to put them on."  
Josephine had all but dragged her back to the suite in her bloodstained uniform, throwing a clean dress at her. The nobles at court apparently didn't like to be confronted with the messy realities of their politics. 

"You mean you were walking around, like- like that- Oh you really are a demon." He says, grinning at her in awe and stepping closer again.  
Catching her wrists in his hands he walks backwards to the bed, drawing her with him. Sitting down on the edge he pulls her onto his lap. He's still fully clothed and she shivers at the brush of cool silk on her bare skin. 

"Off," she pouts, working at the buttons of his tunic.  
He helps her shrug it off and she leans into him, skin on skin. Being able to feel him under her always makes her feel calmer, more comfortable. Relaxed, his expression open and curious, Cullen tilts her chin up to. Calloused fingertips run over the tattoos on her face.

"What do they mean?" He asks softly, following the branching lines across her cheek. 

"My vallaslin?"

"Mmhmm."

"They show that I've come of age. Mine honour Mythal."

"Mythal?" He rolls the unfamiliar name over his tongue. 

"The Protector, the All-mother. She stands for justice and love."

"Fitting," he says, still stroking her cheek absentmindedly. She presses into his touch, letting it wipe away her remaining tension. "Did they hurt?"

"Yes. But they're supposed to. To show that you're ready to be an adult."

He nods, quietly reflective and places a chaste kiss over the branching lines on each cheek.

"They are beautiful. Like you."

"I..." She lets out a breath, not sure what to say. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear he rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed. 

"I want more of this," he murmurs. "I want to know more about you. I want the time to find these things out."  
The sorrow in his voice slices through her like a knife. She knows too well how little they can take for granted. 

"We'll have that chance. We will." Whether her words are for her own benefit or his she's not so certain. 

Time freezes around them as they sit, pressed together. Longing, sadness, fear and desire all spill through her, over her, slipping away to be replaced by a simple contentment. Her breathing slows to match his and she counts the beats of his heart under his fingers. They barely move, neither wanting to be the first to break contact. That is until Cullen swears and shifts under her, nearly throwing her onto the floor. 

"Maker, sorry, cramp-" He gasps, catching her before she can fall. 

Laughing, she rolls off him and helps him massage the offending thigh back to life.

"You don't half know how to break the tension, do you?" 

She swats him teasingly on the shoulder and he laughs, the beautiful deep, full laugh that she loves so much. In return, he tackles her, throwing her up the bed. And, Maker, starts tickling her. He manages to find all the parts of her that make her squeal like a child. Writhing under him, she giggles, partly because of his eager fingers and partly simply because the Commander of her Inquisition is tickling her. Digging her fingers into his ribs she returns the favour, working out what makes him laugh harder. The rumble in his chest causing little bubbles of happiness to burst through her lungs. They tangle together, laughing and shrieking, adding little kisses and nips into the mix. She feels so light, warmth spreading through her. The stark contrast to the pretence of the Game is giddying. A chance to just let go; there have been very few opportunities for that lately. 

"Mercy," he cries, pinning her under him.  
Exhausted they crawl under the covers together, panting and gasping. Cullen twines her fingers with his, brushing kisses over her knuckles. 

"Amazing. You are amazing," he mumbles against her fingers.

"Wonderful. That's what you are," she breathes. 

Teeth run over her collarbone, nipping softly, "I'll take that."

She shivers slightly in the cooling air and he wraps himself around her. Cuddling back into him she sighs as he buries her head in her hair. Then yelps when he pokes her in the ribs. 

"Your feet are absolutely freezing."

"And you are lovely and toasty," she quips, deliberately rubbing them over his shins.  
He grumbles into her hair but holds her close. Cullen is solid and safe behind her and his warmth sinks into her skin. She begins to doze off, floating quietly in the space between waking and sleeping.

"Maker. You mean everything to me." 

His voice blurs into a dream and she slips away with affection wrapped around her like a blanket. 

When she wakes again the room is still dark, the faintest touches of early morning light only just showing around the heavy curtains. There's an empty space next to her and she's briefly concerned before Cullen stumbles into view. He's trying to pull on his boots and button his tunic at the same time, failing spectacularly at both. 

"What in Andraste's name are you doing?" She asks, voice husky with sleep. 

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"Instead you were just going to slip out in the middle of the night?"

"Yes. Well, no. I just didn't think it would be a good idea for anyone to see me leaving here this morning."

"Ah, of course. Not sure Josephine would ever talk to us again if we sprung this on the court."

He's managed to get his boots on and is desperately running his fingers through his unruly hair, trying to get it to lie flat. It sticks straight up at the back, making him look like a tousled child. 

"Let me do that," she offers, reaching for him. 

He settles on the bed next to her and she works at the messy curls, smoothing them down. Softening under her fingers he settles back a little, sighing happily. She manages to get him looking at least vaguely presentable although a few tufts still poke out. It makes her happy, seeing him looking relaxed, less than the perfect, controlled exterior he normally presents. 

"There. You look a little less like a wyvern caught you."

"Well, it wasn't exactly a wyvern," he says, laughing, and makes to stand up.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" She grabs his arm, pulling him down to kiss her. He's eager against her lips and eases himself closer, wrapping his arms around her. Lips slipping from hers, he works up her jaw, nibbling playfully on the tip of her ear. 

"You really are good at distracting me." He whispers, breath tickling her skin. A final soft kiss on her  
forehead and knuckles brush gently across her cheek. "Get a few hours more sleep, little demon."

Then he's gone, checking up and down the hall before slipping out of the door. Feeling suddenly empty she buries her head into his recently vacated pillow, breathing in his lingering scent.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. This hasn't been beta'd so any constructive criticism is always welcome :)


End file.
